Hello, my dear stars! ✨

Here’s a new chapter for you all! As you know, it’s Ramadan, and things have been a bit hectic, making it difficult to upload daily. But I promise I’ll try my best to write as much as I can for you.

I also want to gently remind everyone that the story will take its natural course, and the male and female leads will meet when the time is right. Please be patient and trust the journey. If anyone feels the wait is too long, you’re free to make your own choices, but negativity won’t be entertained anymore.

On a brighter note, the wedding preparations have begun! Exciting things are coming, and I can’t wait for you to read them. Despite being unwell, I’m uploading this chapter for my amazing readers who wait so eagerly. Your support means everything!

Much love, and happy reading! ❤️✨

Tonight at 9:30 PM, I’m dropping a reel on Instagram, and I need your support! Target 360+ likes, 80+ comments, and 50+ shares—if we achieve this by 11 PM, I’ll upload the next chapter immediately!

My reach has been low lately, so every like, comment, and share makes a huge difference. If you enjoy my story, this is your chance to help it grow!

Also, I have a reader’s group chat on Instagram—feel free to message me if you’d like to be added! Let’s make this happen together! ❤️✨

The next chapter is in your hands! ⏳💫

Author's pov

Next day

The morning air inside Khan Villa was thick with the scent of freshly brewed chai and the distant chatter of house staff preparing for the upcoming wedding events. But in Inayah’s bedroom, the world was still silent, peaceful.

Nestled beneath the heavy silk duvet, Inayah lay comfortably, her arm draped protectively over Sifna, who slept soundly beside her. Inayah’s grip tightened unconsciously, as if shielding her sister from the world beyond these four walls.

But peace was never meant to last long in this house.

A sharp knock echoed against the door, shattering the stillness.

"Inayah, beta uth jao!" (Inayah, my child wake up!)

Her mother’s voice. Smooth, with love and impatient.

Inayah groaned, burying her face deeper into the pillow.

"Agar apko uthna hai toh uth jao, mujhe mat tang karo," (If you want to wake up, wake up. Don’t bother me.) she mumbled.

The knocking grew louder.

"Inayah, mehmaan aa gaye hain!" (Inayah, the guests have arrived!)

Guests.

That one word was enough to snap her awake.

Not because she cared, but because she knew exactly which "guests" had arrived.

With a sharp sigh, she untangled herself from Sifna and swung her legs over the bed. Her silk nightgown clung to her as she ran a hand through her sleep-mussed hair.

Her eyes darted to Sifna, who remained oblivious to the world, her soft breathing even.

"So ja, jaan," (Sleep, love,) Inayah whispered, gently tucking the blanket around her.

Then, with a storm brewing in her gaze, she stalked toward the door, yanking it open.

The sight that greeted her was expected, but no less irritating.

Haniya Khan.

Her mother stood there, her usual forced elegance in place, but there was a stiffness in her shoulders that told Inayah she wasn’t pleased.

"Sifna abhi tak so rahi hai?" (Sifna is still sleeping?) Haniya asked, her lips pursed in disapproval.

Inayah crossed her arms, leaning lazily against the doorframe.

"Haan, toh?" (Yes, so?)

Haniya’s nostrils flared, but before she could say anything else, a new voice sliced through the air.

"Inayah, andar nahi bulayegi apni khala ko kya?" (Inayah, won’t you invite your aunt in?)

Inayah’s jaw clenched.

She turned her head, already knowing who stood behind her mother.

Aasiya. Her aunt

Draped in an expensive saree, eyes gleaming with fake warmth, lips curled in a smirk that never quite reached her eyes.

Beside her stood Aaliya, her daughter, her stance oozing silent arrogance.

Aaliya loved Inayah, but only when she was the center of her affection.

And behind them, in the living room, sat Aasiya’s husband with Inayah’s father, deep in conversation. Daniyal and Sahil Ansari, her two sons, lounged carelessly on the plush leather sofas, eyes flickering toward the staircase as if waiting to catch a glimpse of inayah and sifna

A slow, cold smirk curled on Inayah’s lips.

"Toh aap log sach mein aa gaye?" (So, you really came?) she mused, her voice filled with mock amusement.

Aasiya’s expression didn’t falter.

"Shadi ka ghar hai, Inayah. Kaisi baatien kar rahi ho?" (It’s a wedding house, Inayah. What are you saying?)

Inayah tilted her head, her smile sharp.

"Baat toh sahi hai... lekin yeh bhi toh sach hai na, Aasiya Khala?" (That’s true… but isn’t it also true, Aasiya Khala?)

Her voice dropped, mockingly sweet.

"Aap yahan sirf shadi ki khushiyon ke liye nahi aayi. Aap yahan apna zeher failane aayi ho." (You haven’t come just for the wedding celebrations. You’ve come to spread your poison.)

The air turned thick.

Haniya shot her daughter a warning glare.

"Inayah, tameez se baat karo." (Inayah, speak with respect.)

Inayah let out a soft chuckle, pushing off the doorframe.

"Tameez? Miss khan, tameez unke saath ki jaati hai jo uske laayak ho." (Respect? Miss khan, respect is given to those who deserve it.)

She turned her gaze to Aaliya, who had been quietly observing, waiting.

"Aur tum? Tumhe kya chahiye?" (And you? What do you want?) Inayah asked, her voice casual, but the challenge was unmistakable.

Aaliya’s lips twitched in an innocent smile, but her eyes gleamed with something darker.

"Main toh bas yeh dekh rahi thi ke aapne Sifna ko ab tak chhoda nahi." (I was just wondering if you’ve let go of Sifna yet.)

Inayah’s muscles tensed.

She took a step forward, eyes locking onto Aaliya’s with a quiet, lethal warning.

"Aur tumhe kya lagta hai? Ki main usse kabhi chhodungi?" (And what do you think? That I’ll ever let her go?)

Aaliya held her gaze, but for the first time, there was hesitation.

Haniya cleared her throat, stepping between them.

"Bas karo, Inayah. Mehmaan aaye hain, andar toh bulao." (Enough, Inayah. Guests have arrived, at least invite them inside.)

Inayah arched a mocking brow before dramatically stepping aside.

"Aao Par yaad rakhna... yeh ghar sirf mohabbat ka hai. Nafrat ko zyada din yahan jagah nahi milti." (Come in. But remember… this house belongs only to love. Hate doesn’t last long here.)

Aasiya and Aaliya exchanged a look.

Then, with fake smiles, they stepped inside.

But Inayah knew.

The real game had just begun.

The murmurs and tension-filled exchanges outside the bedroom slowly stirred Sifna from her peaceful slumber.

Her lashes fluttered as she shifted slightly under the warm duvet, a small frown forming between her brows. The voices sounded distant, but something about the tone felt heavy, uneasy.

She turned her head, expecting to see Inayah still beside her, but the bed was already half-empty, the space slightly cool where her sister had been.

With a soft yawn, Sifna sat up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. The silky fabric of her nightgown pooled around her as she stretched, still drowsy but now aware of the hushed tension outside.

Then she heard it.

Aaliya’s voice.

"Main toh bas yeh dekh rahi thi ke aapne Sifna ko ab tak chhoda nahi." (I was just wondering if you’ve let go of Sifna yet.)

Sifna blinked, her heart giving a tiny, familiar ache.

She knew Aaliya didn’t like her.

She knew Aasiya Khala never saw her as family.

But that didn’t change how she felt about them. She still loved them. She still wanted to be accepted by them, even if they never did.

Sliding out of bed, her bare feet met the cool marble floor as she hurried toward the door, her heart pounding—not in fear, but in a quiet, innocent hope that maybe today would be different.

The moment she stepped out, all eyes turned to her.

Aasiya’s expression flickered with something unreadable. Aaliya’s gaze darkened for a moment before she forced a small, fake smile.

But Sifna, in her pure-hearted way, smiled at them genuinely.

"As-salamu alaykum, Khala." (Peace be upon you, Aunt.)

Her voice was soft, gentle like a spring breeze.

She turned to Aaliya, her eyes warm.

"Aap kab aayi didi? Mujhe pata hi nahi chala." (When did you arrive? I didn’t even realize.)

Aaliya’s jaw clenched, but before she could respond, Inayah immediately stepped beside Sifna, protective as ever.

Her hand rested lightly on Sifna’s wrist—a silent reminder that she was not alone.

"Tumhe jagane ka mann nahi tha, isliye nahi bataya." Inayah said smoothly. (I didn’t want to wake you, that’s why I didn’t tell you.)

But her eyes never left Aaliya’s, her voice carrying an unspoken warning.

Aaliya huffed and looked away.

Sifna, ever oblivious to the brewing hostility, stepped forward and hugged Aasiya.

Aasiya’s body stiffened for a fraction of a second before she patted Sifna’s back—mechanically, without real warmth.

But Sifna never noticed.

She pulled away, her eyes filled with hope.

"Aap kaise hain, Khala?" she asked, her voice genuine, caring. (How are you, Aunt?)

Aasiya forced a tight-lipped smile.

"Main theek hoon," she replied. (I’m fine.)

Sifna, ever the innocent one, didn’t sense the lingering resentment.

But Inayah did.

And she would not let them hurt her sister.

Sifna invited them to come inside the room. Now Inside the grand bedroom, the air felt thick with unspoken words. The soft scent of roses from the bedside vase did little to mask the discomfort brewing in the atmosphere.

Aasiya Khala sat gracefully on the plush velvet sofa, adjusting the bangles on her wrist, her sharp eyes scanning the room like a hawk. Beside her, Aaliya crossed her arms, leaning against the wall, her expression unreadable.

Sifna, still dressed in her soft nightgown, sat quietly on the edge of the bed, her delicate fingers playing with the corner of the bedsheet. Her innocent eyes held nothing but warmth, despite the coldness directed toward her.

Inayah, however, was different.

She stood tall, her arms folded, her dark eyes burning with silent defiance. She didn’t care for these fake pleasantries. She knew exactly why they were here.

"Kya baat hai, Khala?" Inayah asked, voice firm. (What’s the matter, Aunt?)

Aasiya’s perfectly shaped brows arched, a feigned look of surprise on her face.

"Bas, phle tumse milne aaye the. Itni narazgi kyun?" she replied smoothly. (Oh, we just came to meet you. Why the hostility?)

Aaliya let out a small huff of amusement, looking at her mother with an almost playful smirk, as if entertained by the situation.

"Haan, Inayah di. Aap toh pehle hi sifna se itni chipki rehti ho, ab kya Sifna se bhi alag nahi ho sakti?" she said with a fake pout. (Yeah, Inayah. You already stick to your sifna so much; now you can’t even separate from Sifna?)

Her words were light-hearted on the surface, but Inayah caught the bitter edge beneath them.

Sifna’s lashes fluttered as she looked up, confused. She never understood these games.

"Aaliya di, aisa kyun keh rahi hai aap?" Sifna asked softly. (Aaliya di, why are you saying this?)

Before Aaliya could respond, Inayah stepped forward, shielding Sifna like she always did.

"Agar tumse Sifna ka naam bhi hazam nahi hota, toh yahaan aane ki zaroorat nahi thi," she snapped, her voice filled with steel. (If you can't even tolerate hearing Sifna’s name, then you didn’t need to come here.)

Aasiya’s smile faltered for a brief moment.

"Arrey, itna gussa kyun ho rahi ho? Yeh toh sirf mazaak tha," she cooed, tilting her head slightly. (Oh my, why are you getting so angry? It was just a joke.)

Inayah let out a sharp, humorless laugh.

"Aap log hamesha mazaak hi karte hain na? Pehle Sifna ki zindagi mazaak banayi, ab uske hone par bhi mazaak karna zaroori hai?" (You people are always joking, right? First, you made Sifna’s life a joke, and now you think it’s necessary to joke about her existence too?)

Aasiya’s gaze darkened slightly, but she kept her composed demeanor.

"Inayah, beta, tumhe shaadi ke baad toh alag hona hi padega. Har ladki apna ghar chhodti hai," she said in a sickly sweet voice. (Inayah, dear, after marriage, you’ll have to separate anyway. Every girl leaves her home.)

Inayah smirked, crossing her arms.

"Haan, lekin mai apni behan nahi chhodne wali," she declared. (Yes, but I’m not leaving my sister.)

Sifna looked between them, her heart aching. She didn’t want fights. She didn’t want hatred.

She just wanted love.

She hesitantly reached out, grasping Inayah’s wrist gently.

"Aapi, chhodo na," she whispered. (Sister, let it go.)

But Inayah’s stance didn’t waver.

She turned back to Aasiya and Aaliya, her voice dropping to a deadly calm.

"Agar aap log Sifna ki izzat nahi kar sakte, toh mujhse mehendi mein tameez se baat krne ki umeed mat rakhna." (If you can’t respect Sifna, then don’t expect me to talk nicely with you at my mehendi.)

Aasiya’s face hardened. Aaliya’s smirk vanished.

For the first time, they realized something.

Inayah wasn’t going to bow.

And no matter how much they tried, Sifna would never be alone.

And then inayah said "Aap log baitho, main abhi fresh ho ke aati hoon," she she said, her tone polite yet distant. (You guys sit, I’ll be back soon I’m going to freshen up) and then she left And the moment she did, the atmosphere in the room shifted.

The warmth disappeared.

Sifna could feel the cold eyes of her Khala and cousin settling on her.

She swallowed hard.

"Inayah ki shadi ka din kareeb hai aur tum ab tak rajkumariyon ki tarah so rahi ho?" (Inayah’s wedding is near, and you’re still sleeping like a princess?)

Sifna immediately shook her head, her voice soft.

"Woh... bas thodi der ke liye so gayi thi." (I just fell asleep for a little while.)

Aaliya let out a sharp, mocking laugh, stepping closer.

"Thodi der ke liye?" she repeated, arching a brow.

Then she tilted her head, smirking.

"Pata nahi kis baat ka sukoon hai tumhe, Sifna." (I don’t know what peace you have, Sifna.)

"Hamesha Inayah ke pallu se chipki rehti ho. Kabhi khud se jeena seekha hai?" (You’re always clinging to Inayah’s dupatta. Have you ever learned to live on your own?)

Sifna’s fingers curled into the bedsheet. She knew this game.

She knew if she spoke, they’d twist her words. If she stayed silent, they’d take it as weakness.

Aasiya let out a low chuckle, sitting down gracefully on a chair.

"kabhi kabhi sochti ho ki jab Inayah bhi chali jaayegi toh kya hoga?" she said smoothly, eyes filled with false sympathy. (do you ever think about what will happen when Inayah leaves too?)

Sifna’s heart clenched.

But before she could reply, Aaliya leaned in, her voice a venomous whisper.

"Ek din woh bhi tujhe chhod kar chali jayegi, Sifna." (One day, she will leave you too, Sifna.)

"Jaise sab jaate hain." (Just like everyone else does.)

The words stabbed.

Deep.

Sifna lowered her gaze, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Why did they hate her?

She had never done anything wrong.

She never spoke back. She never hurt them. She never even questioned their cruelty.

All she ever did was love.

But love, when given by the wrong person, is often treated as an inconvenience.

Aasiya sighed dramatically, shaking her head.

"Sifna, tumhe toh aadat daal leni chahiye akelay rehne ki." (Sifna, you should start getting used to being alone.)

Aaliya let out a soft laugh, mockingly patting Sifna’s head.

Aaliya leaned forward, smirking.

"Waise bhi, tum jaise manhus ladki ke saath kaun zyada der tak tikta hai?" she mocked. (Anyway, who stays with bad omem girl like you for long?)

The words were laced with venom.

But Sifna didn’t flinch.

She didn’t cry.

Not because it didn’t hurt— But because she had learned a long time ago that her tears were nothing but entertainment for them.

And yet—

She still couldn’t understand.

"Maine kya kiya?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper. (What did I do?)

Aasiya let out a fake laugh.

"Mujhe toh yeh sawaal Inayah se poochna chahiye," she said smoothly. (I should ask this question to Inayah instead.)

"Pata nahi woh tum jaise bojh kyun uthaye baithi hai?" she added, shaking her head. (I don’t know why she’s carrying a burden like you.)

Sifna’s chest tightened.

She had heard these words before.

Too many times.

But they still hurt the same.

Just as Aaliya was about to say something else, the bathroom door opened.

Inayah stepped out, her gaze immediately falling on Sifna’s face.

And in an instant—

She knew.

Her eyes hardened, sharp as a dagger.

She turned toward Aaliya and her Khala, crossing her arms.

"Mujhe toh laga aap dono yahaan mujhe milne aaye ho," she said coolly. (I thought you both came here to meet me.)

Aaliya smirked.

"Arre, of course," she said sweetly. "Par thoda Sifna se bhi gupshup ho gayi." (Oh, of course. But we were just chatting a little with Sifna too.)

Inayah’s jaw clenched.

"Aap dono ko aur koi kaam nahi hai kya?" she said, her tone no longer playful. (Do you both have nothing better to do?)

Aasiya gasped, offended.

"Arre, Inayah! Tum mujhse is tarah baat kar rahi ho?" (Oh, Inayah! You’re talking to me like this?)

Inayah gave her a blank stare.

"Mujhe samajh nahi aata, Aasiya Khala," she said coldly. "Aap shaadi mai aayi ha ,yahan ya phir Sifna ko rulane kai nayai tareekai dhundhne (I don’t understand, Aasiya Khala. You came here to celebrate my wedding or for finding new ways to make Sifna cry.)

Aaliya’s smirk disappeared.

Aasiya looked away, scoffing.

"Haan haan, tum toh ab badi ho gayi ho na?" she muttered. (Oh yes, you’ve grown up now, right?)

"Par ek din tumhe bhi samajh aayega," Aaliya added, her voice carrying a warning. (But one day, you will understand.)

Inayah’s eyes darkened.

She stepped closer.

"Nahi samajhna mujhe," she said sharply. (I don’t want to understand.)

Her voice was calm but dangerous.

"Agar aap dono bas yeh sunane aaye ho, mere kamre mai toh darwaza wahaan hai," she added, gesturing toward the exit. (If you both came here in my room just for this, then the door is right there.)

Aasiya’s lips pressed into a thin line. Aaliya clenched her jaw.

For a moment, the tension in the room thickened.

Then, without another word—

Aasiya stood up, grabbing Aaliya’s wrist.

"Chalo, yahaan waqt barbaad karne ka koi faida nahi," she muttered. (Come on, there’s no point wasting time here.)

Aaliya glared at Inayah one last time before turning on her heels.

Sifna sat still, her heart pounding.

As soon as they left, Inayah turned to her.

Her boldness melted away.

She sat down beside Sifna and pulled her into a hug.

"Mat sun tu yeh sab," she murmured, her voice softer now. (Don’t listen to them.)

Sifna rested her head on Inayah’s shoulder.

She didn’t cry.

But she also didn’t know how much longer she could hold it all inside.

The atmosphere in the room still felt heavy even after Aasiya Khala and Aaliya left. Their lingering words clung to Sifna’s chest like invisible chains, tightening with every breath.

But she refused to let them see her break.

Not now. Not ever.

With a deep breath, she pulled away from Inayah’s embrace, forcing a small smile.

"Mujhe tayar hona hai," she murmured. (I need to get ready.)

Inayah studied her for a moment, searching her face for any cracks in the mask she wore so well. But Sifna was good at this—at pretending she wasn’t hurting.

Finally, Inayah nodded.

"Main bhi ready hone ja rahi hoon," she said softly, giving Sifna’s hand a reassuring squeeze before walking away. (I’m going to get ready too.)

As soon as Inayah disappeared into the bathroom, Sifna stood up and made her way toward her wardrobe. She took out a fresh set of clothes and quietly stepped into the attached bathroom.

The cool water cascaded down her skin as she performed ghusl, cleansing herself in quiet devotion. It was something she always did—washing away not just the impurities of sleep but the weight of the world pressing down on her.

When she emerged, she felt lighter. Not entirely free, but lighter.

She walked toward the dressing table, her fingers trailing over the smooth, polished wood. The large mirror reflected a girl who looked… composed. But she knew better.

Opening the drawer, she pulled out the light pink suit that Inayah had picked for her. It was simple yet elegant, embroidered with delicate silver thread. Something about it felt safe, warm—like Inayah herself.

She draped the soft fabric over her arm and sat down, picking up her comb. As she ran it through her long, silky hair, her eyes flickered to her reflection once more.

She saw the tiredness beneath her eyes. The unspoken words on her lips.

And suddenly—

Aaliya’s voice rang in her head.

"Ek din woh bhi chali jayegi, jaise sab jaate hain." (One day, she will leave you too, just like everyone else does.)

Her grip on the comb tightened.

"Mat soch is baare mein, Sifna," she whispered to herself, shaking her head. (Don’t think about this, Sifna.)

She had spent years learning how to push away pain, how to swallow loneliness like bitter medicine.

But today— It was harder.

She braided her hair neatly, securing it with delicate silver pins that matched her outfit. Then, she reached for her surma, carefully applying the dark kohl along her waterline. It was the only adornment she ever allowed herself—simple, yet defining.

Lastly, she picked up her hijab, a soft pink fabric embroidered with silver that matched her suit. She wrapped it around her head with practiced ease, securing it gently before adjusting it in place.

She took one last look in the mirror.

She was ready.

Not just for the morning— But for whatever came next.

And no matter what anyone said— She wouldn’t let them see her break.

With quiet determination, she stepped out of the room, ready for breakfast, her heart steady despite the storm around her.

The soft rustling of Sifna’s hijab accompanied her as she stepped down the grand staircase of the Khan Villa, her footsteps light but steady. The living room was already filled with voices—some warm, some indifferent, and some… unsettling.

She spotted Inayah first, seated gracefully on the plush velvet sofa, engaged in quiet conversation with Sahil and Daniyal. Their fathers sat nearby, deep in discussion about business and the upcoming wedding festivities.

Aasiya Khala and Aaliya and haniya khan were nowhere in sight—for now.

Sifna inhaled deeply before making her way toward them.

As she approached, Sahil Ansari, her cousin, glanced up and gave her a polite nod, his expression neutral but not unkind.

"Assalamu Alaikum," she greeted softly, offering a gentle smile. (May peace be upon you.)

"Wa Alaikum Assalam," Sahil responded, his tone casual.

Next to him, Daniyal—her other cousin—barely looked at her. He muttered the response, but there was something sharp in the way his gaze traveled over her. Unlike Sahil, Daniyal’s stare lingered—a look she had come to recognize but never acknowledged.

He didn’t see her as family. He didn’t see her as a person. He saw only what his filthy mind desired.

She lowered her gaze immediately, tightening the fabric of her hijab around her shoulders as if shielding herself from his stare.

"Beta, baitho," her Khalu—Aasiya Khala’s husband—gestured toward the empty space beside Inayah. (Sit, my dear.)

She obliged, sitting close to Inayah, as if her presence alone could offer her some invisible protection.

But she could still feel it.

Daniyal’s gaze.

It crawled over her like an unwelcome touch, sending a cold shiver down her spine.

She kept her focus on the conversation, forcing herself to engage, to act normal, despite the suffocating unease settling in her chest.

But she knew one thing for sure—

She would never allow herself to be alone with him.After sometime Haniya Khan entered with her usual grace, her voice warm yet commanding. "Chalo sab, nashta lag gaya hai," she announced. (Come on, everyone, breakfast is served.)

The elders nodded, rising from their seats, their conversations continuing as they moved towards the dining hall.

Inayah’s phone buzzed.

She glanced at the screen, her brows furrowing. "Mujhe ek zaroori call leni hai, tum chalo," she murmured to Sifna before stepping away. (I need to take an important call, you go ahead.)

One by one, the family members left, the room slowly emptying—until only Sifna and Daniyal remained.

She adjusted the corner of her hijab, preparing to follow the others.

But before she could take another step—

A strong hand wrapped around her wrist.

Her breath hitched.

The air thickened, her pulse spiking as an unsettling chill ran down her spine.

She turned her head slowly.

Daniyal.

His fingers tightened just slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to make his presence known. Enough to remind her of the unspoken power he believed he had.

"Kya tum hamesha itni tezi se bhaagti ho?" His voice was low, laced with amusement. (Do you always run away this fast?)

Sifna’s heart pounded, but her face remained calm.

She had learned long ago never to show fear.

"Chhodo," she said quietly, but there was steel in her voice. (Let go.)

Daniyal smirked, his grip lingering.

"Itni narmi se maangogi toh kaise chhodunga?" (If you ask so softly, how will I ever let go?)

Her fingers curled into a fist.

Disgust crawled under her skin.

"Main keh rahi hoon—chhodo," she repeated, this time louder. (I’m telling you—let go.)

Daniyal chuckled, leaning slightly closer, voice dropping to a whisper. "Sab chhod kar chale jaate hain, hai na? Ek din tumhari Inayah bhi chali jayegi." (Everyone leaves, right? One day, even your Inayah will leave you.)

The words struck deeper than they should have.

Sifna swallowed, ignoring the sharp ache in her chest. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing his words affected her.

But just as she was about to snatch her wrist away—

A sharp voice cut through the tension.

"Kya ho raha hai?" (What’s going on?)

Sahil Ansari. He forgot his phone in the living room so he came there He stood at the doorway, his brows furrowed, his gaze flickering between Daniyal's hand on her wrist and the rigid way Sifna stood.

Daniyal's smirk faltered.

He released her immediately, stepping back as if nothing had happened.

"Kuch nahi bhai , bas mazak kar raha tha," he muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets. (Nothing, brother I was just joking.)

Sahil’s jaw clenched.

"Aisa mazak dobara mat karna." His voice was dangerously calm. (Don't make this kind of joke again.)

Daniyal scoffed but said nothing, choosing instead to walk away as if nothing had happened.

Sifna exhaled slowly, her wrist burning from the unwanted touch.

Sahil glanced at her, concern flickering in his dark eyes. "Tum theek ho sifu ?" (Are you okay?)

Sifna forced a nod. Ji bhai ( yes brother)

But deep down, she knew—

This wasn’t the last time Daniyal would try something.

Sifna adjusted her hijab, her fingers still slightly trembling from the encounter, though her face remained composed. She didn’t want anyone to notice.

Sahil gave her one last glance before turning on his heel, walking toward the dining hall.

She followed quietly.

As she stepped in, the dining hall was already bustling with the morning chatter of family members. The long marble table was adorned with an array of breakfast dishes—parathas, omelets, fresh fruit, and steaming cups of chai.

Haniya Khan was seated at the head of the table, ensuring everything was in order. Inayah, now off her call, sat beside her father, her kohl-rimmed eyes scanning the table as if searching for someone.

The moment she spotted Sifna, her gaze softened.

"Idhar aao," she patted the empty seat beside her. (Come here.)

Sifna hesitated for a second, but before she could move, Aaliya slid into the seat instead.

"Yahan main baithungi, Inayah," Aaliya said with a sweet but sharp smile. (I'll sit here, Inayah.)

Inayah's brows twitched, but she said nothing. Instead, she motioned for Sifna to sit on her other side.

Sifna did, quietly pouring herself a cup of chai, keeping her gaze lowered.

Across the table, Daniyal sat beside his father and Sahil, his expression unreadable. If anyone looked closely, they would notice the way his gaze lingered on Sifna just a second too long.

Daniyal smirked but said nothing.

Sifna reached for her chai, her fingers trembling slightly. She masked it well—no one noticed.

Except one person.

Sahil.

His sharp gaze flickered toward Daniyal for the briefest moment before returning to his plate. He had noticed—and he didn’t like it.

Meanwhile, Aaliya, unaware of the silent exchange, leaned toward Inayah with a teasing smile.

“Waise, Inayah di,” she nudged her playfully, “Shaadi ke baad bhi Sifna ko itna pyaar dogi? Ya phir apne husband ke saath busy ho jaogi?” (By the way, Inayah di, will you still love Sifna this much after your wedding? Or will you be too busy with your husband?)

Inayah rolled her eyes, spreading butter on her toast.

“Mera pyaar koi kam nahi hoga.” (My love won’t decrease.)

Aaliya laughed, shaking her head.

“Dekhna ek din woh bhi chali jayegi, jaise sab jaate hain.” (Watch, one day she’ll leave you too, just like everyone else does.)

The words cut deeper than they should have.

Sifna kept her expression neutral, but inside, something ached.

She had spent years learning how to push away pain, how to swallow loneliness like bitter medicine.

But today—

It was harder.

She focused on her food, ignoring the burning gaze she could still feel on the side of her face.

Because even though Daniyal said nothing more—

His eyes never left her.

The atmosphere at the breakfast table was now lighter, the earlier tension slipping away as conversations turned toward the wedding. Plates clinked, cups of chai were passed around, and laughter filled the grand dining hall.

It was Haniya Khan who brought up the next important topic.

“Aaj shopping ke liye tayar rehna sab,” she announced, setting her cup down. (Everyone, be ready for shopping today.)

Inayah, who had been scrolling through her phone, perked up.

“Shopping? Aaj?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. (Shopping? Today?)

Haniya nodded. “Shaadi ki itni tayariyan baaki hain, aur tum sab sirf baith kar waqt zaya kar rahe ho.” (There’s so much wedding preparation left, and you all are just sitting around wasting time.)

Aaliya, clearly excited, clapped her hands together.

“Finally! Mujhe ek naye lehenga ki zaroorat hai.” (Finally! I need a new lehenga.)

Sifna, who had been quietly eating, glanced toward Inayah, already knowing what was coming next.

And just as expected, Inayah turned to her with a smirk.

“Tu bhi chalegi, Sifna.” (You’re coming too, Sifna.)

Sifna hesitated. She wasn’t fond of crowded places, nor was she particularly eager to spend time with Aaliya and Aasiya Khala, knowing they would use every chance to taunt her.

Before she could decline, Inayah spoke firmly.

“Sifna bhi jayegi.” (Sifna will also go.)

That ended the discussion.

Daniyal, who had been silently watching, smirked. “Ye toh aur bhi interesting hoga,” he murmured under his breath, low enough that no one except Sahil caught it. (This will be even more interesting.)

Sahil shot him a warning look, but Daniyal simply leaned back in his chair, completely unfazed.

Meanwhile, Inayah, oblivious to the undercurrents in the room, was already making a mental list of everything she needed to buy.

"Bas, kisi ko late nahi karna hai. Sab ek sath niklenge." Haniya’s voice carried authority. (No one should be late. We’ll all leave together.)

With that, the breakfast conversation shifted to outfits, jewelry, and excitement—while beneath the surface, unspoken tensions simmered.

After breakfast, the Khan Villa buzzed with activity as everyone scattered to get ready. The excitement of shopping filled the air, especially among the women.

Sifna walked to her room, a soft smile lingering on her lips. For once, she felt included—a part of the family, rather than an outsider.

As soon as she stepped inside, she pulled out her phone and quickly dialed Abeeha’s number.

“Assalamu Alaikum, Abeeha!” she greeted warmly. (Peace be upon you, Abeeha!)

Abeeha’s familiar, excited voice rang through the speaker. “Wa Alaikum Assalam, meri jaan! Kaisi hai tu?” (Peace be upon you too, my love! How are you?)

Sifna’s eyes sparkled. “Main bohot khush hoon aaj! Aaj main family ke saath shopping ja rahi hoon.” (I’m really happy today! I’m going shopping with my family.)

Abeeha gasped dramatically. “Really?! Sifna, yeh toh kamaal ho gaya!” (Really?! Sifna, this is amazing!)

Before Sifna could reply, Sidra’s voice cut in from the background. “Oye, mujhe bhi batao! Kya horaha hai?” (Hey, tell me too! What’s happening?)

Abeeha laughed. “Sifna family ke saath shopping ja rahi hai.” (Sifna is going shopping with her family.)

Sidra practically squealed. “Awww, Sifna! Tu toh bohot cute hai. Zara video call kar, hume bhi dikha kahan ja rahi hai.” (Awww, Sifna! You’re too cute. Video call us, we want to see where you’re going.)

Sifna giggled. “Bad mein karti hoon, abhi ready hone wali hoon.” (I’ll call later, I’m about to get ready.)

“Accha sun,” Abeeha’s voice turned softer. (Listen,) “koi pareshaan kare toh mujhe bata dena, okay?” (If anyone bothers you, just tell me, okay?)

Sifna’s heart warmed at her concern. “Abeeha, main theek hoon. Aaj sab normal lag raha hai.” (Abeeha, I’m fine. Today, everything feels normal.)

Sidra snorted. “Bas, bohot normal normal hogaya. Agar kisi ne tujhe kuch kaha na, toh mujhe bata. Tujhe pata hai na, main kya kar sakti hoon?” (Enough of this ‘normal’ talk. If anyone says anything to you, just tell me. You know what I’m capable of, right?)

Sifna chuckled. “Haan, haan, meri fighter! Ab main jaa rahi hoon tayar hone.” (Yes, yes, my fighter! Now, I’m going to get ready.)

“Jaldi ready ho aur hume update de!” Abeeha reminded. (Get ready fast and update us!)

Sifna smiled as she ended the call, warmth filling her chest.

She wasn’t alone. She never was.

With renewed happiness, she opened her wardrobe and picked out a beautiful modest dress—a deep navy blue abaya with delicate silver embroidery. She paired it with a matching hijab and a soft white dupatta.

As she got ready, her heart felt light. For the first time in a long while, she was excited about what the day had in store.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter

What do you think about Inayah’s response to Aaliya? Was she justified, or should she have handled it differently?

Aaliya clearly resents Sifna. Do you think her jealousy will lead to bigger problems in the future?

What do you think is Aasiya Khala’s real intention? Does she just dislike Sifna, or is there something deeper?